


unclench your fists, my lover (the war is over now)

by maharieel



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, a little bit of fluff too i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharieel/pseuds/maharieel
Summary: they make it, in the end, with blood-soaked hands and tired hearts.





	unclench your fists, my lover (the war is over now)

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: patching up a wound

There was a long second where Shepard thought death had finally returned to collect his debts, the shadows dragging at his ankles as he hung from the Normandy’s airlock like a fucking bullseye. His arms almost vibrated from the strain as he felt bullet after bullet slam into him, his armour barely holding together under the heavy fire. With a grunt, Lance felt his grip slip even as he tried to pull himself to safety.

“Move,” someone shouted above him, and through the crimson stain of his vision Lance watched Miranda dive towards him. His voice cracked and faltered as he tried to warn her away from the killing zone that had become the airlock, but before he could force a word out she was crouched and gripping his forearms. There was a ripple of blue energy from her hands and in one swift motion she heaved him inside the airlock.

“Go!” she screamed, and Lance was suddenly jolted against the wall as the ships engines were hit into overdrive. His shoulder burned in pain at the impact.

Silence enveloped the airlock as the door rushed closed behind him. Lance lay on his side against the wall and even through the armour he could feel the warmth of blood seeping from him. With a groan, he tried to make it to his knees but collapsed back to the floor with a curse, his legs nothing but numb sacks of meat beneath him.  _Fucking hell_.

“Fuck Shepard,” a voice sounded over his shoulder. He felt hands tugging at his shoulders trying to turn him over. “Shepard.  _Lance_.”

Miranda somehow managed to get him onto his back, half propped up against the wall. Shepard couldn’t make out anything but her halo of black hair, but he kept his eyes on it even as the darkness crept further into his vision. He was vaguely aware of Miranda’s hands removing armour pieces from his chest, of the eerie orange glow that emitted from her omni-tool as she scanned him. It wasn’t until he felt her pushing medi-gel into the numerous holes coating him that his vision began to clear.

When she put her hand against the bare skin at his torso, Lance felt her fingers tremble.

“Miranda,” he tried, voice tearing against his throat. Miranda seemed to ignore him, eyes trained intently on the blood staining his chest. _“Miranda.”_

She paused her work then, eyes falling closed as she let out a sigh. With a hiss, Lance lifted his hand and placed it on hers. With his gauntlets off he could feel the blood coating her hand.

After a long moment of silence, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Lance held it for as long as he could, her azure eyes burying past the blood and grime and making a home within him, and he felt a flutter of warmth deep in his chest despite the pain still eating away at him.

The sound of footsteps thundering towards the airlock echoed from the bridge, and seconds later the familiar form of Chakwas came into view with a handful of medical supplies. Lance expected her to have brought a gurney, but the doctor seemed to know him well enough, and instead just crouched down beside Miranda and begun her tests right there in the airlock. Lance hissed as Chakwas jabbed him with something in the neck and he felt Miranda’s hand clutch at his again, the trembling long forgotten.

In the distance, Lance heard the Collector Base explode.


End file.
